Remember
by Booksong
Summary: The first of several stories that focus on remembrance of fallen heroes from Avatar. First up: Jet.


**Disclaimer: None of the characters or the world is mine, just the story itself.**

**A/N: This will (hopefully) be the first of several parts to this particular one-shot "theme" of rememberance. Characters that passed during the show, who we hope will be remembered in the Avatar world for many generations to come.**

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**Remember...Jet**

Katara's attention was caught by the sudden rise of youthful voices, chattering together with excitement and anticipation. She turned from where she'd been admiring the intricate piece of cloth one of the village women was weaving, searching for the source of the noise. Her first thought was that it was Aang, getting himself caught in the middle of his worshipful young followers again. They had been aiding this particular village for over a week, but the awe of the kids over having the Avatar in their midst had not decreased one bit.

It _was_ a gaggle of young children, dressed in simple clothes dirty from their day's playing, but they were converging on one of the village men, talking excitedly and pulling at his sleeves. Katara was confused by the scene until she heard one of the children squeal the word, "Story!" and then it all became clear. It was a familiar tableau, she thought to herself with a smile. She remembered she and Sokka pestering Gran-Gran and the other village elders in a similar way when they were young. And even not so young; getting older had not diminished her enjoyment of the thrilling folktales and stories of the past.

On impulse, Katara edged closer as the man good-naturedly gave in to the children's demands. Sitting down cross-legged, he motioned exaggeratedly for all the kids to gather in close to him. They did, forming a circle with much shuffling, pushing, giggling, and shushing.

"So," the man began, using a deep voice that Katara thought was perfectly suited for storytelling. "Which one do you want me to tell you tonight?"

As Katara knew would happen from experience, the question brought an eruption of suggestions. Some of them she recognized as tales she herself had heard, and others, she was embarrassed and gratified to hear, she had actually experienced.

"Avatar Kyoshi and her Island!"

"General Shiang and the Battle of the Falling Earth, please?"

"Tell about Avatar Aang and the bad Fire Lord!"

"No, the one with Wolf Warrior Sokka and his sword from space!"

"But you've heard all those before," pointed out the storyteller.

Judging by the outburst that came from his audience, they didn't care one bit. The man, however, scratched his chin thoughtfully and then snapped his fingers. "I've got it. I'll tell you one that a certain group of very interesting travelers once told me, on their way through the village. It's a brand new one."

There were cries of mingled disappointment and eagerness, but they soon scaled down to silence as the usually active children went still to watch the face of the storyteller.

He cleared his throat dramatically, making sure he had undivided attention, and then began.

"Once upon a time, not very long ago, there was a little boy. He was much like many of you, with a family that loved him, and lots of friends. But this was during the war…so one day, the Fire Nation attacked."

Katara winced sympathetically as murmurs of fear and sorrow ripped through the crowd of children. Many of them hardly remembered the war; they were too young. But they still knew the appropriate response to the mention of it. The storyteller went on.

"It was terrible. The little boy ran as fast as he could, dodging soldiers mounted on rhinos. Around him, everything was burning. His family and friends were gone. He was all alone. And there was a terrible man with fiery eyes who was watching it all happen. The little boy was so scared, especially of that man."

The listening children huddled together, but on their faces was the kind of terrified excitement that comes from hearing about bad things secondhand.

"The little boy had to run away. His village was gone, and now he was on his own. At first he cried a lot. But then he decided that if he was going to survive, he had to be strong and brave. And more than that, he had to find a way to punish the Fire Nation for what they had done."

There were a few fierce, decisive nods from some of the older children, especially the boys.

"So the boy went from place to place. Sometimes people were kind and gave him food and somewhere to sleep, but others turned him away or yelled at him. Sometimes he was bad and stole things, just because he needed them. But to accomplish his other goal, to get revenge on the Fire Nation, he had to have a weapon. So one day, the boy stole something much more special that just food or clothes. He stole a pair of brand new, beautifully crafted, tiger-head hookswords."

Katara's sharp intake of breath couldn't even be heard over the ripple of admiring cries from those children who knew their weaponry.

"He spent hours practicing with those swords. Sometimes off-duty Earth Kingdom soldiers would teach him techniques. And then he decided he'd find a way to fight back at the Fire Nation.

"So he began helping other kids. He found other children who'd been hurt by the Fire Nation, whose families were gone and whose villages were burned. And he took care of them. He taught them how to live with him, without any adults, free in the wild. After a while, the other kids started to call him their leader, and they looked up to him like a big brother. And he called this group of children…" The storyteller paused for dramatic effect before exclaiming in a booming voice, "The _Freedom Fighters_!"

The listening children were so taken with the name that they all echoed it immediately, starting a somewhat squeaky chorus of "Yeah, Freedom Fighters! The Freedom Fighters!"

The man waited until the children had quieted, and then went on. "The boy, who was now getting to be a young man, called himself Jet. He and his Freedom Fighters built a whole city in the trees, where they lived without anyone knowing. Jet became an expert with his hookswords, using them to move easily through the treetops. And they secretly attacked the Fire Nation whenever they could, stealing from their supplies, trapping their soldiers, and pestering them all the time."

His audience's eyes were shining. They all thought this sounded like the most dashing and incredible of lives.

"And…you'll have to hear the rest tomorrow," the storyteller said, grinning slyly. "I have to get to my work now."

There was an outburst of disappointment and outrage from the children. The story had just been getting good.

The man was getting to his feet when a female voice stopped him. It spoke in warm and measured tones, a good story-telling voice. But to anyone who listened carefully, there was just a slight catch in it.

"But sometimes, Jet was too dedicated. He hated the Fire Nation so much that he didn't think about who else he was hurting. He was too focused on revenge."

The children all looked to Katara in awe, their faces turned up to her. Almost unconsciously, their listening knot drifted towards her, as if drawn by a magnet. Even the storyteller stared at her.

"One day, a girl ran into Jet. He saved her and her brother, and her friend, from a bunch of Fire Nation soldiers. He was very brave, and very skilled, and very handsome. The girl liked him a lot."

There were some discontented mutters from the boys, and some excited sighs from the girls.

"But the girl's brother saw that there was something wrong with Jet. Although he was nice and dashing, his anger was hurting him from the inside. The girl didn't want to believe that. She had been hurt by the Fire Nation too, and she thought she understood Jet. So she helped with whatever he asked of her. And one day, Jet asked the girl and her friend to help him create a massive river out of water. She didn't know why, but Jet was so brave and kind that she helped him anyway. And then the girl's brother discovered that he wanted to use the water to flood a city…to kill both Fire Nation _and_ Earth Kingdom people."

Soft squeaks of horror rippled through the children as the image of their new idol was so abruptly twisted. Katara watched with a kind of sad irony, knowing what they felt all too well. She kept talking, although in a way it was hurting her too.

"The girl had no choice but to finally believe her brother, when Jet told her his plan himself. She was so mad at him, for lying to her and making her like him. She gathered water around her, and froze him to a tree, for this girl was a waterbender. And then she left him, with all that anger burning inside her."

The children were very quiet.

"For a long time, the girl forgot about Jet. But then, when she and her friends were visiting the great city of Ba Sing Se, he found them again. She was furious when she saw him again, but he promised her that he was different now. He wanted to help them, because the girl's best friend had lost something very important to him. But even then, there was something wrong with Jet. Only this time, it wasn't his fault. A very bad man, named Long Feng, had brainwashed him. Made him forget about a lot of things."

Soft 'ooos' of fear and awe rose from the children, who had settled down around Katara, making the shift from one storyteller to another flawlessly.

"So even while Jet tried to help the girl and her friends, he didn't know that he was secretly in Long Feng's control. He led them to a place where Long Feng had his base, so they could find the thing they had lost. It was deep under a lake, in a secret underground cave."

The children all leaned inward, seeming to hold their breaths. The other storyteller, the man, still stood watching her with an unreadable expression on his face, his work apparently forgotten.

"In that cave, the girl and all her friends were ambushed by Long Feng's secret police earthbenders. There was a huge fight. In the midst of it, Long Feng tried to escape. Jet and Aa-…I mean, the girl's best friend, tried to stop him. But then Long Feng used the brainwashing that he had done to Jet. He made him think that he needed to defend the Earth Kingdom, and hurt his friends. But the girl's best friend talked to him. He made Jet remember who he really was, and what he stood for. And Jet forced back the brainwashing, and he disobeyed Long Feng's orders. He threw his hooksword as hard as he could at Long Feng."

The children watched her, eyes huge, their expression ranging from eager to fearful. Katara swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. After all, good storytellers did not sound like they were about to cry.

"But Long Feng was too fast. He threw up a huge spike of rock, and hit Jet in the chest. He broke something inside him. And Jet was…very badly hurt."

Katara expected gasps and cries from her audience. But they remained silent, their faces going so grave that they all suddenly looked much older.

"He told them…his friends…that he would be okay. He promised the girl. He smiled at her, before they left to finish their mission and find their missing friend."

There was a long silence. Then, a little girl, probably about four or five, raised her hand. "Was he lying?" she asked softly, with a kind of quiet wisdom far older than her years.

Katara blinked the tears back. Years had come and gone since that day under Lake Laogai, and yet suddenly it all rushed back to her. She nodded. "Yes. She never saw him again." She saw the stricken looks on the faces of the children, and added fiercely, "But he died a warrior…a hero. He tried to fight the Fire Nation, his whole life, even when he sometimes did it the wrong way. But he was a very good person…in the end."

The children were all quiet for a few moments. The silence was broken by the voice of the original storyteller, the man. "Well, I think the story's over. Why don't you thank Lady Katara and get back to playing? Come on now."

There was an obedient chorus of "Thank you, Lady Katara" as the kids dispersed. Katara stood, gazing into the distance with a faraway look in her eyes. The voice of the storyteller almost startled her.

"Did you know this…girl…very well?" She could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew the truth. Of course, she hadn't really been trying to hide it. Katara just nodded.

"You know, you did him a great service by telling the little ones that story. Honored his memory."

"I hope so," Katara whispered.

****

It wasn't until later that afternoon, after lunch and several meetings with Aang and the village leaders, that Katara passed the knot of children again. She almost walked straight past, just as she had the first time, when something stopped her.

"Hiya! I'm Jet, the Hooksword Warrior! You better watch out, Fire Nation!"

Katara turned to see a little boy brandishing two long sticks, a heroic scowl on his face. In front of him, two other children with their hands extended in the manner of firebenders advanced on him. Not far away, another group was reenacting the defiance of Long Feng.

"You'll never brainwash me, you meany Long Feng! I'ma Freedom Fighter!" Their audience cheered, echoing, "Yeah, Freedom Fighters!"

Katara found herself on the verge of tears again, but for very different reasons.

She had always worried about him fading away, that devil-may-care boy, with the straw in his mouth, hookswords in his hands, and a deadly twinkle in his eyes. But now she knew that he never could, not when thousands of children and adults would reenact his spirit over the generations. And what's more, all of them would be free, if she and Aang had anything to say about it.

She thought he would have liked that.


End file.
